


Chat Noir: Calendar Edition

by Otoshigo



Series: MLB - Oneshots [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrinette, Comedy, Drama, Dramedy, F/M, Marichat, Marinette shows how awesome she is and Chat Noir notices, Romance, fluffy at first, minimal angst, not a reveal, then less so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 06:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11617743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otoshigo/pseuds/Otoshigo
Summary: Marinette’s class has to come up with an idea to make some cash for their upcoming class trip. However, things go awry with their plan and somehow Chat Noir gets involved. All Marinette wants is to go to Nice with Adrien.  Can she make it through this without losing her mind?





	Chat Noir: Calendar Edition

**Author's Note:**

> I was trying to do a fic to get more than just the main four involved. Hopefully, I got the dynamics down.

“C’mon, does no one have any ideas?”

The class representative looked to her fellow students almost in desperation. Their class trip was coming up in only three short months. More importantly, their deadline to raise funds for said trip was coming up in six weeks. Whether or not they ever made it out of Paris on an overnight trip (the class chose Nice) rode on their ability to make up the funds for the trip. It was supposed to foster a sense of purpose and class unity. To work towards a common goal for the greater good.

All it did was foster a headache in Marinette. Of course, she had slightly selfish reasons to want to take a trip to Nice with her class. Namely one male model who sat in the front row of their class. Who was not being particularly helpful either, but at least he had the excuse of not attending a real school before. He looked on the whole discussion with wide-eyed curiosity, as though he were a tourist watching a quaint tribal dance.

The rest of them were just useless.

“I could create mixtapes for people,” Nino suggested, raising a hand.

“That’s not exactly something that’s easy to turn around and make a quick buck on,” Alya, her class rep deputy, replied. “We need something that will sell like hotcakes.”

“Ooh, so a bake sale?” Rose interjected, trying to be helpful. However, everyone only groaned.

“That’s what everyone else is doing and it’s overdone besides!” Max replied, “Not to mention the school is right next to a famous patisserie.” Several glares turned to Marinette, as if it were _her_ fault.

Marinette coughed. “Okay, look. Let’s not do something edible. It’s got to be something that we can sell on a street corner and that we can produce fairly quickly. More importantly, it’s got to be something that people will _want._ ”

“Well, I can give fashion consultations,” Chloe replied as she examined her nails. “Some people desperately are in need of entire makeovers of their drab wardrobes.”

Everyone took a minute to imagine that scenario. They all thought of Chloe Bourgeois giving fashion critiques to passersby whether they wanted it or not. They all cringed.

“Wait. _Hang on,”_ Alya said, holding up a hand. “I know what we have that the other classes don’t.” She pointed to Adrien Agreste. “We’ve got a famous model. Why don’t we use him!”

Marinette looked to Adrien and flushed. “Th-that’s not- We can’t just single him out from everyone in class. That’s not fair.”

“How’s it not fair? All he needs to do is stand around and we photograph him. Say, like in a calendar or something,” Nino replied. “The rest of us can do all the work in formatting it and selling it to raise funds.”

Marinette and Adrien shared a rare look. As budding fashion designer and pro model, they both knew very well that _‘standing around’_ was not all that modeling entailed.

“Ooh! An exclusive calendar of Adrichoue~!” Chloe squealed. “I’d buy a hundred of those!” She launched herself at her childhood friend and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Adrichoue, please~! It would be perfect for our class project!”

Marinette wrinkled her nose. “That’s up to Adrien, Chloe,” she snapped.

“N-no, it’s alright,” Adrien replied with a smile. The epitome of gentlemanly behavior. “I don’t mind at all, if that works for everyone else.” He looked up to Marinette. “Maybe you can help me with what I should wear in each shoot. You have a great sense of style, Marinette.”

“M-me?” Marinette stammered, her face turning bright red. She could feel the eyes of everyone in her class zone in on her, as if she were a rabbit about to be caught in a snare. The girls especially had devious smiles (with Chloe being a notable exception).

“That sounds like an _excellent_ idea,” Alya declared, before anyone could say otherwise. “Gabriele Agreste is Marinette’s favorite designer. She’s bound to understand his aesthetic. I’m sure she can pull out something _fabulous_ from your wardrobe at home. Mari, why don’t you go over to his house this weekend and sort it out! We’ll do the shoot on Monday after class.”

“Sounds great,” Adrien beamed at Marinette. “Looking forward to it.”

So that was that.

~o~

Marinette stood awkwardly in the middle of Adrien’s room, trying hard not to hyperventilate. It helped somewhat that the lofted room was larger than her whole house (thus negating most of the potential intimacy). It also helped that she had been here before as Ladybug.

She had just never been here as Marinette. Alone. With Adrien.

“Hey, sorry about that. I thought you were going to be by later,” the model called as he exited the bathroom in jeans and a tank, toweling off his spiky wet hair.

Scratch that. A wet Adrien. (That boy _really_ liked to shower.)

“N-n-n-no, it’s okay!” Marinette stammered, the whole of it getting to be just a little too much for her. “I probably came early too. I mean came too early. I write things down wrong totes - I mean-”

Adrien laughed goodnaturedly, patting her on the shoulder. “Texts don’t lie,” he said, waving his phone. “It was my bad.” He walked over to a couple of double doors near the bathroom and opened them up. “Anyway, here’s my clothes. Have fun with it.”

As one might expect with a rich boy, his wardrobe was absolutely enormous. It may as well have been a boutique, immaculately organized and curated with different occasions of dress - suit, semi-formal, casual, etc. - with hundreds of accessories such as hats, belts, shoes and watches.

As one might expect with the son of a famous fashion designer, his wardrobe was also _immaculate._ Every article was exquisite, either as a classic or trendy and fashion forward. She had no doubt that whatever did fall out of fashion was filtered out of his wardrobe on a regular basis. Naturally, all of them Gabriel Agreste label.

Marinette let out a shriek of excitement before she could stop herself. Behind her Adrien started at the shrill scream that pierced his ears, but he smiled at the way that his shy classmate nearly vibrated with energy. “C-can I really?” she asked, pointing to the dressing room, wide-eyed.

“It’s why we’re here,” he grinned.

Letting out another ecstatic shriek, Marinette dove into the room and ran her hands through all the articles of clothing, as if to get a sense of what she had to work with first. “Adrien, these are amazing!” she declared, finally pulling out some pieces to look at. Completely immersed in her element, she turned a critical (almost judgy) eye on Adrien. “How come you never wear any of this to school? You’re always wearing the same overshirt and jeans!”

“Um, it’s easy?” Adrien said with a nervous laugh. To be honest, he didn’t really want to stand out that much and he generally prefered function over form (much to his father’s chagrin).

Marinette huffed at that answer. “Oh honestly, you are such a- a _boy!”_

 _“Ouch,”_ the model laughed, playfully sticking out his tongue. Gosh, he _liked_ this Marinette. They should have done this ages ago. He’d have to introduce her to his father too. That would really make her day.

Back to sorting, Marinette said, “I’ve always wanted to play with some of these pieces in different combinations. I mean, not that Gabriel Agreste doesn’t know how to edit his own line, of course. I’d call that canon. This is more like... fanfiction.”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “You read fanfiction?”

Marinette blushed and he was afraid that he’d accidentally set her on revert. “W-well, I don’t really have time, to be honest,” she replied evasively. “I read it sometimes. Wh-what about you?”

“Probably too much,” Adrien admitted sheepishly. In his defense, it was _boring_ at photo shoots during down time. “Oh! I’ve gotten into Ladybug-Chat Noir fanfiction recently.”

“....There’s Ladybug-Chat Noir fanfiction?” Marinette said in a flat tone that said that she didn’t really believe it and really didn’t want to.

“Yup! It’s great!” Adrien replied. “People come up with all kinds of stories about how they fall in love and they reveal themselves to each other and live happily ever after.” Of course, all the details were horrendously wrong. (The current fan-canon was that he was named Felix and he was an orphan ragamuffin that lived on the streets of Paris.) Still, it was fun to read and even more fun to fantasize.

Unfortunately, Marinette didn’t seem to think so. _‘Of_ course, _you’re a Ladybug/Chat Noir fan,’_ he heard her mutter under her breath. Before he had a chance to wonder why she was so against it, she pulled out her ensemble. “Here, try this out,” she said, holding out a 3/4 sleeve sport blazer, a wide necked tank with a wicked skeletal print and black skinny jeans.

Adrien let out a small whistle at the styling choice. Yup, he was right. She was a natural at this. Not in the least bit body shy, he began to tug off his tank top in front of her.

Marinette’s face exploded into a blush. “ADRIEN, GO CHANGE IN THE BATHROOM!” she shrieked.

“Haha, oops!” Adrien grinned. “Sorry, sort of went into model-mode. Be right back.” As he examined himself in the bathroom mirror, however, an idea hit him. Well, if he was going to go into model-mode anyway~

Throwing open the door, the fashion icon strut into his room for all the world as though he were on the catwalk of Paris Fashion Week. A wicked grin spread over his lips as he watched her face blossom into a bright blush. Designating her the end of the walk, he cut a pose and winked. Then with the same gravitas, he strut his stuff back stage (back in the bathroom).

The blond popped his head back out into his bedroom. “What’d you think?”

“A-Adrien, you are ridiculous!” Marinette giggled, the blush still spread over her cheeks. His heart gave an odd little pitter-patter. One normally reserved for his lady. For some reason, he didn’t mind. There was just something about this more open Marinette that made him want to show off the inner jokester that he repressed in public.

“Nonsense, _I’m_ a professional,” he replied haughtily, delighting in the way she flushed with laughter. “Unlike a certain fashion designer who’s cracking up at me. I’m _hurt._ Do you always make fun of your models? Don’t you know we have terrible body image issues?”

“Oh _stop!”_ Marinette laughed, gently squeezing his shoulder. “You’re perfect, you know that.”

 _Tell that to all the photographers and stylists I work with._ Nonetheless, he smiled. “Okay, what else do you have for me?”

Thus, they completely wrecked his wardrobe. Somehow, their assignment devolved into playtime as Adrien tried on outfit after outfit, each becoming more ridiculous than the last. Even Marinette took her own turns on the catwalk, laughing as she twirled around in tuxedo jackets that were too big, or long shirts belted into dresses, or trying (and failing) to give him sultry looks under the rim of his fedoras.

God help him, he kind of liked seeing Marinette wearing his clothes.

Unfortunately, their fun came to an abrupt end. As did most things fun inside the Agreste household.

A knock to the bedroom door sounded, almost inaudible against their laughter. It sounded again and Adrien called, “Come in!”

Nathalie entered the room to find it in total chaos. It was as if someone had bombed the dressing room with suit jackets, shoes, hats and pants thrown on every available surface of the room. She looked between Adrien and Marinette, who were currently tying bow ties all along the blond’s leg, then to the spread of clothes all over the floor. She coughed lightly, before she held herself to attention. “Adrien, your father has learned of your intentions to model for a school fundraiser.”

All at once, Adrien’s heart began to sink. Marinette’s own amusement dimmed, as she turned a worried glance to the blond.

“He advises that you do not do it. As the face of the Agreste line, you cannot associate yourself with subpar productions. You have a reputation to uphold.”

Advises his foot. That was an order.

“Nathalie, I’m his son. Not his employee!” Adrien cried, his fists clenching at his sides. Gah, it was just like his father to do something like this! Even worse, it came from Nathalie instead of his father himself. “It’s not like he has me under contract!”

“Regardless,” the personal assistant replied, “modeling in any clothing from the Gabriel Agreste line is out of the question. Should you decide to do so, your father will have no choice but to litigate the school. He will also be incredibly displeased if you follow through and model for the school project.” With nothing more to be communicated, she turned back to the hallway.

Nathalie paused at the door, a shade of guilt passing over her features as she took the two school children in. “...I’ll let the chef know your friend is staying for dinner. Do you have any allergies, Mlle. Cheng?”

 _“Dupain-_ Cheng,” Adrien growled, while his classmate shook her head.

“N-no, I can eat anything,” Marinette replied politely. “Thank you.” Once Nathalie departed, she looked to the blond, who had sunk into a foul mood. She had never seen such a black expression on his face, as if he wanted to destroy something. Carefully, she put a hand on his arm, drawing his attention. “Adrien, it’s okay. We can think of something else for the fundraiser.”

Rubbing a hand over his face as if to wipe away his dark expression, he turned an apologetic look to his class rep. “I’m so sorry, Marinette. I really wanted to help out. It turns out I’m completely useless,” he sighed, turning his head away in defeat.

It crushed her heart to see him like this. Hesitantly, Marinette reached out, wrapping him up into a hug. She felt him stiffen, but managed not to let go. “It doesn’t matter. I had a lot of fun today,” she mumbled shyly against his shoulder.

At once, the model began to melt. He smiled, returning the hug in full. “Me too. You’re amazing, Marinette.” When she scoffed, Adrien pressed again (and would always until she believed it), “You are! You’re a great class rep, _the_ best gamer, you’re always standing up to Chloe. Heck, you’re even a great designer since you impressed my-” He froze.

“What? What is it?” Marinette asked, cheeks stained from the compliments.

“That’s it!” Adrien cried, grabbing her by the shoulders. “We don’t need my father! We have _you!”_

“Me?” Marinette echoed incredulously.

“Yeah, you can design and make all the outfits for the calendar!” Adrien beamed.

Marinette’s jaw dropped. “A-Adrien, that’s a _lot_ of work! And our fundraiser deadline is in six weeks! That’s not enough time to put together a coherent twelve piece collection! Let alone print out the calendars and sell them!” The designer froze up when Adrien grabbed both her hands in his, his green eyes bright and earnest.

“I know you can do it, Marinette. You can do anything.”

...Welp, she was officially doomed. However, she did have to make one last attempt to save herself. “W-well, who’s going to model it? Your dad said that you can’t.”

At this Adrien hummed. “You’re right. I’d hate for you to do all that work and then my dad does something to mess it all up.”

“See?” Marinette said, somewhat relieved. “I’m not exactly a household name yet. Nobody’s going to buy our calendars just because. They’ll buy it because _you’re_ famous.”

“Famous, huh?” the model hummed again, turning the word over in his mind. Then his lips split into a smile that was almost _wicked._ “Don’t worry, Marinette. I know just the guy.”

~o~

After departing from the Agreste mansion after a fabulously fancy dinner, Marinette stared up at her ceiling as she tried to decipher who on earth Adrien might be talking about. He was very hush-hush about the whole thing, saying that she’d find out later when it was confirmed. It might be one of his colleagues from work. Someone who didn’t come attached with such a strict non-compete clause. The thought was incredibly intimidating, seeing as she was supposed to design clothes with this person.

Sighing, Marinette looked to the white straw fedora that Adrien had given her. He had declared that it looked much cuter on her than on him and wouldn’t let her leave without taking it. She was pretty sure he was just saying that, possibly because he still felt guilty that none of this was shaking out like they’d hope. Even so, she hopped in front of her mirror to try it on. She couldn’t help but gush a little. A present from Adrien!

“You do look very cute,” Tikki informed her chosen, delighted at how happy she was.

“Aw, thank you,” Marinette replied, her cheeks hinting at a blush. She was going to have to find the perfect outfit to pair with it when she got the chance.

Suddenly, something tapped at her window. Marinette spun around, her heart pounding out of her chest. Only to see two unmistakable green eyes and a mischievous grin peering back at her. Chat Noir! What the hell was he- Tikki!

Alarm bells blared and she hoped and prayed that Chat Noir didn’t see Tikki before she hid from view. Holding herself stiffly, she went to her window and slammed it open. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s impolite to look into girls’ bedrooms, you peeping tomcat!” she snapped.

Chat Noir blinked. Before he flashed a contrite, sheepish grin. “Apologies, Prrincess. I’ll make sure to come by way of the balcony next time. Cute hat, by the way,” he winked.

 _Next_ time? What did _that_ mean?

More importantly, it looked like he hadn’t figured out who she was. Flushing, she took off the hat and flung it over to her chaise. “What exactly are you doing here, Chat Noir?” she asked as she folded her arms over her chest, in no mood to play the fangirl.

The black cat slipped into her room, completely uninvited she might add, before taking a deep bow. “Prrincess, I have come to your rescue in your hour of need. When I learned that you needed a famous face for your school trip fundraiser, I was more than happy to volunteer my expertise.”

Marinette stared, her jaw dropped. _“You?!”_ she cried. _“You’re_ the ‘guy’ that Adrien was talking about?!”

Chat Noir smiled. “Ah, I can tell that you are absolutely stunned by your unexpected good fortune,” he said as he posed oh-so dramatically. “After all, who could possibly expect that such a handsome and dashing superhero would assist on such a humble project? Never fear, Prrincess, I am as committed to your cause as the day is long.”

 _Stunned is one way of putting it._ “...It’s nighttime,” Marinette said flatly. “Besides which, how are you supposed to model in that suit of yours? Do you even know _how_ to model?”

“I’ll have you know, I have a natural affinity for the catwalk,” Chat Noir replied, smirking as though he were cracking up at his own joke. “As for the suit, you might be surprised to know that it _does_ come off,” he said with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

“...You’re _not_ serious,” Marinette paled.

“Why not? All I need is a mask and kitty ears. Then we’re golden.”

“You can’t-!” the designer cried, her face forming into a moue of irritation. “That is unbelievably reckless of you! Magic isn’t going to keep your mask on if someone gets the bright idea that they want to see your identity!”

 _“Wow~_ You really sounded like Ladybug just then,” Chat Noir remarked, making Marinette freeze. “No seriously, all frowny face and disapproving and everything.”

Groaning, Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose to fight an oncoming headache.

“C’mon~ It’ll be fun, Prrincess,” the black cat wheedled, putting an arm around the designer’s shoulders. “You get to hang out with your favorite superhero and show off your mad designs~” In a slyer tone, he added, “Besides, if you _don’t_ then good luck finding some other way to pay for that overnight class trip of yours.”

Marinette went still. That’s right. Her overnight trip with Adrien (and her friends) depended on raising enough money from their fundraiser. If Chat Noir _did_ model for it, they would probably make even more money from that than Adrien Agreste. (Sorry Adrien.) Chat wouldn’t even necessarily need to be _good_ at it.

Worrying her lower lip and feeling torn, Marinette finally sighed and fell on the side of irresponsible. “Okay _fine,”_ she gave in, hanging her head in defeat. She chimed the bell around Chat’s throat and said, “But you _better_ take this seriously, Chat Noir. If I tell you to show up, you show up. If I tell you to sit, you sit. If I tell you to dance, you dance. You got it?”

“Ooh, you really sounded like Ladybug then too,” Chat grinned. (Dammit, she was going to have to work on that.) “Never you fear, Prrincess. I am one well-trained kitty. I won’t let you down.”

 _No, you never do, kitty,_ Marinette thought fondly. “Well, you better scat, cat,” she said, waving a hand to shoo him off. “I’ve got a to-do list a kilometer long and you’re distracting. Go off and chase some mice or whatever you do at night.”

“You’re just asking for presents of dead mice on your balcony. I hope you know that,” Chat replied, sticking his tongue out playfully. “Well, I’ll get out of your fur. Later, Prrincess!” he called as he slipped out her window and into the night.

“Night, Chat Noir~” she called back before she locked the window and drew the blinds. She let out a huge breath and fell bonelessly into a chair.

Tikki zipped into view out of her hiding place. “Marinette, are you sure this is a good idea?” the little kwami frowned.

“You heard him,” the designer said with a helpless shrug. “It’s probably the best way to raise funds for that overnight trip. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to be out to expose him.”

“And what about your classmates?” Tikki asked.

Marinette let out a nervous laugh. “Uh... yeah, that might be a little tricky. Especially with Alya. Hopefully, they don’t get carried away.” They’d probably be alright. Their whole class had exposure to Chat Noir on multiple occasions. Hopefully, they could act like mature individuals when it wasn’t a life or death situation.

“For now though, I’ve got a collection to put together. Help me pick out the best designs.”

~o~

On Monday morning, Marinette advised her class of the change in plans.

“CHAT NOIR?!” Alya screeched, looking like she was about to explode in excitement. “Oh my gosh, that is amazing! How on earth did you pull that one off?!”

Marinette glanced briefly at Adrien, who looked mildly uncomfortable. For some reason, it didn’t exactly feel right to divulge that he was the source. “Ah, well, y’know...” she motioned awkwardly with her hands to no effect, “I’ve bumped into him a couple times before...”

That vague explanation was good enough for her bestie, who was already excitedly typing up a new blog post on her phone. “Ooh, this is so good! I’m going to let everyone on the Ladyblog know! I’ll set up pre-orders too. We’re going to be rolling in it!”

All of this pressure wasn’t exactly doing Marinette much good. She’d spent the whole night trying to piece together her best designs in a cohesive theme. It didn’t help that half her designs were for women and her ones for men veered on the androgynous. She had no less than five new outfits to think up to make the entire collection work. Not to mention actually _making_ them.

Rose looked at her friend in worry. “Are you alright with this, Marinette?” she fretted. “That’s a lot of work for one person. If you need any help, Juleka and I can help with the sewing.”

“Oh really? That would be _amazing,”_ the class rep said with a huge sigh of relief. “I can do the patterns, but doing all the grunt work by myself will be impossible.”

“Well, I can find us a studio to do the photography,” Nathaniel volunteered.

“I’ll do the marketing!” Alya declared, holding up a hand. Which was a given considering.

“I’ll do the photography,” Nino said.

“I’ll format the calendar,” Max added.

“Ivan and I can get them printed,” Mylene said, looking up to her boyfriend.

“We can deliver them!” Alix cut in, volunteering herself and Kim.

“What are we going to do, Chloe?” Sabrina asked, looking to the class queen.

The blonde merely scoffed. “Us? I’m obviously the consultant,” she replied as she cast a disparaging look at Marinette. “We can’t trust _her_ taste alone in all this.”

“That’s okay, you can just do nothing. Please,” Marinette retorted flatly, turning a glare on her.

“What are you going to do, dude?” Nino asked, looking to Adrien.

The model blinked, startled. “What, me? Obviously, I’m going to- uh...” he faltered, stumbling on his own thought. Then it clicked. “I’ll get the fabric,” he decided. He turned a smile on Marinette. “Whatever you need, I got you covered.”

“That’s amazing, Adrien. _Thank you.”_ Marinette grinned brightly, already feeling much better about this whole project. It was all actually getting her a little bit teary-eyed. “You guys are all so awesome!” she cried, punching a fist into the air. “There’s no way we aren’t going to rock this!” A cheer rang out through the class, everyone getting pumped as they began to chatter excitedly about each of their part in it.

However, Marinette should have expected that Alya would slide over to her, a conspiratorial smile on her face. “So~ Marinette~” she grinned, looking a little too innocent for her own good, “Any chance that I can get an interview with Chat Noir? Maybe get some hype for this calendar he’s doing for us?”

Both Adrien and Marinette stiffened. “Uhhhm, I can ask,” the designer said because frankly, she didn’t think that Alya would let up otherwise. “But if he says no, please don’t push him about it, okay? He’s already helping us out a lot with this project. Y’know, with his superhero schedule and everything...” she added lamely.

“Oh, I think you can purr-suade him, if you try,” Alya said with a wink. She cackled when Marinette groaned and sunk her face into her hands.

~o~

Later that evening, Adrien came by with the first of many meters of fabric. “I wasn’t sure what you needed,” he admitted, handing off tons of muslin to do the pre-work, as well as black and white basics.

“That’s okay. This is amazing!” Marinette gasped, feeling up the fine quality wool and cambresine between her fingers. She looked so much like a kid in a candy store that he grinned. Well, now he knew easy presents for her in the future.

“You have any idea what you’re doing?” Adrien asked. He instantly regretted his wording when she stiffened. “Uh! Sorry! I mean-! D-do you have a theme in mind?”

“O-oh, um...” Marinette gestured to the pages she had ripped out of her sketchbook and taped to her wall. They mostly consisted of black, white, and gray, with splashes of peach and lemon chiffon thrown in. “I was thinking Urban Flowers. Y’know, kind of structured and edgy with soft touches to it.” She worried her lower lip, wondering what the model would think of the decidedly androgynous designs. In some cases, the blur between male and female was completely eroded with long t-shirts that could be dresses and even a skirt.

Adrien stared, his eyes wide and his jaw slack.

“...You don’t like it,” Marinette fretted. “I knew it. It’s too much. I’ll just do something more classic. I mean, it’s Chat Noir. He’d probably refuse to wear it, the macho-flirt that he is.”

“No,” the model replied, putting a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “Are you kidding? I _love_ it. My dad would _never_ put me in stuff like this. Nothing that would make me seem any less like the perfect son. All the other models always got to, but not me. I always wanted to try something avant garde like this.”

Marinette’s cheeks blossomed into a bright blush at the overwhelming compliments. “I’m so sorry that you won’t have the chance,” she said softly. It was even more a shame because she may or may not have had the blond in mind when she was initially making those sketches.

“What? Oh. Yeah,” Adrien replied, his enthusiasm diminishing somewhat. He turned a smile to the designer. “If Chat Noir doesn’t wear it, I will. I promise. I don’t care what my dad says.”

Marinette cocked her head, as she studied the blond. “You still could,” she said, her cheeks still flushed. “You look like you could be Chat Noir’s size. You can wear whatever you like first and we can take pictures. Y’know, just for you. We’ll use Chat Noir for the calendar.”

Adrien looked back at the sketches. The temptation was great. She could tell. He was struggling and she could see it all over his expression. “...I better not,” he finally sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t need to do alterations for two people. You’ve got enough work as it is.” He traced a finger over one the designs. “What were you thinking for fabric on the skirt?”

“Peach voile,” Marinette smiled. “With a black blazer from that wool you bought. I’ll have a print made on black fabric to look like graffiti. If we can get some military boots to go with it, it’ll be _perfect.”_

“I am so freaking jealous right now,” Adrien grinned, his eyes sparkling with delight. “Show me more.”

Marinette’s face glowed with excitement as she tugged the model to one of her other outfits. “Then, I have to show you this leather jacket.”

~o~

Adrien left the Dupain-Chengs long after he’d intended to stay with an extensive (and expensive) shopping list. They got maybe a _little_ carried away with all their plots and plans. His monthly allowance was probably going to be completely wiped out by the end of this.

“I’ve heard of getting flowers for girls, but fabric?” Plagg said as he peeked out of his hiding spot in Adrien’s shirt. “You have weird taste in lovebirds.”

“Sh- Marinette’s not a lovebird!” Adrien protested, his cheeks turning pink. “She’s just a friend!”

“A friend that you somehow spent several hours with when you were only supposed to spend ten minutes,” the little black kwami responded sagely.

The model sputtered, before he rose to the challenge of defending his wonderful (and completely platonic) friendship with the amazing designer. If not for his sake, then for _hers._ She didn’t deserve to be demeaned into just a potential romantic interest. There was so much more to her than that. “Marinette isn’t like that, Plagg. We’re just doing a project together! And she has awesome designs! We were just talking! It was all completely innocent.”

“Uh-huh,” Plagg replied archly, sounding like he didn’t believe the model one bit.

“Oh _shut up,”_ Adrien glared at the little cat god. “This fabric’s coming out of your cheese budget, just for that. You’ll have to live off of double-creme brie.”

“What? _Nooooo~!”_ Plagg shrilled. “I take it back! I take it back! You hate her! She’s gross and full of cooties! Don’t deprive me of my _cheeeeese~!”_

“We’ll see,” Adrien replied slyly. He checked the clock on his phone, before he slipped into an alleyway. “For right now, Chat Noir needs to make an appearance. Plagg, transforme moi!”

“You literally just left her!” the kwami cried, but he was already getting sucked into the ring.

Minutes later, Chat Noir knocked on Marinette’s hatch door. He wriggled in anticipation, already thinking of how he was going to gush over her fab designs. Sure, he’d have loved to take her up on posing in them as Adrien first, but this whole thing was already risky. Having her figure out that they had the same body measurements was just beyond the pale.

The door to the hatch opened and two bluebell eyes peered out. “Ni Meow~!” Chat greeted with a cheery wave.

“...Okay, I don’t get it. What on earth are you trying to say?” Marinette asked, frowning.

“Ah, Ni Meow. Like Ni Hao!” the black cat replied, looking quite pleased with himself.

Marinette stared. Then promptly closed the hatch and locked it.

“No, wait! It wasn’t supposed to be insulting!” Chat Noir cried, pawing at the door. “I’m sorry, Prrincess! Let me in~!”

After a long pause, the hatch door opened up again and Marinette glared at the black cat. “You’re on notice, Chat Noir,” she said darkly in warning, hopping down from the hatch to let the black cat through. “I suppose you came at a good time. I need some rough measurements on you. You can stay in the suit for now.”

Meekly climbing in, the cat was something at a loss for what to say. He’d wanted to flirt with Marinette (a thought that made his insides wriggle in glee), but somehow that hardly seemed appropriate right now. _Without_ the flirting and the bravado, he was more than a little dismayed to find there wasn’t much to his Chat Noir repertoire with civilians. Something he’d have to work on. He awkwardly clasped his hands behind his back, while Marinette went over him with a tape measure and jotted down some notes. As she worked, his eyes lit on the collection board. “Ah, are those the outfits? May I- _AIYEEP!”_

Whirling around, he saw Marinette blinking wide-eyed with a hand on his tail. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” she flushed, guiltily letting the leather tail drop. “I didn’t think that would hurt! I was just thinking I’d design your ears and mask for you, to match the designs. I’d love to get your tail too, so I was just trying to see how it was attached.”

 _Oh sure. That’s fine. Except your hand was_ on _my butt!_

“I-i-it’s fine,” Chat squeaked, before he shook off his embarrassment. This was _not_ how he was expecting this whole visit to go. How was it so much easier to talk to this girl as _Adrien?_ He expected the exact opposite.

“Hey, can I see your ring?” she asked suddenly.

Chat clasped his hand to his chest defensively. “What? Why?” he demanded.

“Er, well, I probably need to make a replica of that too, right?” Marinette replied awkwardly. “To make it like it looks now. We probably don’t want to show off your real ring in a bunch of calendars when you’re detransformed.”

...That was a good point. But- “How do you know it looks different when I’m detransformed?” Chat asked suspiciously.

The designer stiffened, before she collected herself. “I- uh- W-well, it just makes sense, doesn’t it? With everyone out looking for Ladybug and Chat Noir, someone would’ve noticed by now if somebody was going around with the exact same ring out in public,” she reasoned.

...Also a good point, but it still didn’t sound like Marinette was being completely forthcoming with him. Deciding that he’d let it slide, for now, he hesitantly brought his hand down in front of her. With a grateful smile, she took his hand in her own. She treated it like the most precious thing in the world, gently running her fingertips along his palm and delicately tracing his knuckles around the ring to examine it. The touch was so soft and so careful, that he was suddenly very grateful that he was wearing gloves. Otherwise, the skin on skin contact might very well have made him lose his mind.

Marinette glanced up to him, before she did a double take. “Chat? Are you okay? Your face is all red. You’re not sick are you?”

“I’m fine!” the superhero said a little too quickly, the hot blush on his cheeks only getting worse. “A-all the touching is just a bit- Y’know...”

“Ahhh, right,” Marinette replied, giving him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I forgot. You’re not a real model. They’re used to being manhandled by their designers.” She patted the top of his head, not noticing the way that he suddenly stilled. “I’ll keep that in mind, kitty. I’ll be gentle, don’t worry,” she teased.

However, Chat was entirely too preoccupied battling with a sudden revelation to give a quippy comeback. He _was_ a professional model. So far, all of Marinette’s touches had been perfectly innocent and well within the realm of what he would expect on a set. This should all be completely normal to him.

So why was he suddenly getting so _flustered?_

“Okay, I got what I needed,” the designer said, putting her notebook away. She smiled, “Want to see the outfits I was thinking of?”

“Ah-um, sure,” Chat replied, letting himself be led over to her idea wall. Unfortunately, he quickly realized that he couldn’t actually talk about the designs like he wanted to. Not without completely giving himself away as Adrien Agreste. All he could do was nod silently as the designer gushed about each idea and where her inspiration came from.

“So... what do you think?” Marinette asked, looking expectantly up at him. She tried to put on a brave front, but the underlying worry was still evident in her tense body language.

 _Finally,_ something he could answer safely _and_ be all heroic and put her at ease. “I think...” he spoke, watching her as she held her breath (how cute), “that I’m going to make these look _good.”_ Grinning slyly at her, he said, “After all, it takes a special kind of cat to rock a skirt.”

Marinette let out the breath she’d been holding and giggled with relief. “That’s true. You do have self-confidence in spades.” A giddiness bubbled in Chat’s chest at how _happy_ she looked. If he could, he’d want her to look like that always. “Oh!” she suddenly said, “I promised my friend Alya I’d ask you- but it’s completely fine if you want to say no!”

“Oh? What does our favorite Ladyblogger want?” Chat asked, already knowing full well what it was.

“Well~ it might be nice if she could do an interview with you to do a promo on the calendar,” Marinette said, looking a little embarrassed at the request. “I mean, it might make sense. We do need to prove that it’s actually you in it, since you’ll be out of the suit and everything.”

 _“Well~_ I suppose it’s about time I had my own exclusive interview with her,” the superhero grinned. “Sure, why not?”

“R-really? That’s great!” Marinette beamed. “She’ll be so happy! I’ll let her know and maybe you two can do it here while we’re working!” In the spur of the moment, she suddenly stood up on her tiptoes and pressed a chaste kiss to the black cat’s cheek. “Thank you so much, Chat. I mean it. Thanks for everything you’re doing for us. You’re definitely my favorite superhero.”

Unbidden, a wide, _stupid_ grin stretched itself across Chat’s face. “Really, Prrincess?” he asked, “Even more than Ladybug?”

“Definitely more than Ladybug,” Marinette laughed. She reached up to ruffle his choppy blond hair, “Just _try_ not to let it go to your head.”

Too late. Every little bit of him reverberated with giddy glee, as if he were ready to bounce off the walls. Ladybug _might_ have more followers, but _he_ was Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s favorite! HA! He couldn’t wait to brag to her!

“Okay, well, I need to get to work. You should probably get going, kitty,” Marinette said as she leaned back on her desk in what was clearly a dismissal.

“Of course, Prrincess,” Chat replied, giving the designer a two finger salute as he opened up the window. “Time to make my exit. With a flip, jump and _double_ barrel-roll!” With a performance that was sure to put a smile on her face, the superhero launched himself into the night. For some reason, he was brimming with energy, as though he’d just downed ten espressos. “I’m her favorite! I’m her _favorite!”_ he crowed, probably waking up more than one Parisian, as he parkoured along the rooftops.

Chat didn’t get home until long after that, when he finally spent up enough energy to be able to sleep.

~o~

Needless to say, Adrien was dead on his feet the next day.

Luckily, this also meant that he was fussed over by Marinette, who gladly gave him coffee and croissants from her house. (He found he quite liked getting fussed over. By her specifically.) So he was awake by the time the class converged after school to briefly go over their progress on the project. If the coffee didn’t wake him up, the piercing shriek that Alya made when Marinette told her the good news did.

“I knew you could do it!” Alya cried, wrapping her arms around the designer and swinging her like a top. “You have got some mad connections, girl! So when is he coming over? Can we do the interview tonight?”

“Uh...” Marinette said stupidly, as Adrien remembered that they didn’t exactly have a formal schedule in hand. “I mean, maybe? He’s shown up for two nights in a row already.”

“Heheh, okay I’ll be there,” Alya said with a grin. “Maybe he’ll let a little something slip about his identity.”

“Alya!” Marinette cried in indignation.

“Oh what? You can’t fault me for trying,” the reporter said, giving her bestie a wink.

 _Thanks for the heads up,_ Adrien thought as he looked on the whole spectacle in amusement.

Rose looked on the pair, worrying her lower lip. “Marinette, is there any way that Juleka and I can meet Chat Noir, too?” she asked shyly. “While we’re helping with the sewing?”

“Ah, well,” Marinette said awkwardly, as she felt more than one look of interest turn in her direction. “I mean, you’re all going to be there for the photoshoot, aren’t you? You’ll definitely meet him then.”

“Yeah, but we won’t really get to _talk_ to him, will we?” Max interjected. “We’re all going to be too busy.” There was a chorus of agreement between the class, each of them chattering about all the questions they wanted to pose to the superhero. Although more than one was about what it was like to work with Ladybug.

As Marinette began to sweat, Nino whispered to the model. “Wow, since when did our whole class turn into a Chat Noir fan club?”

“Well, he is a pretty cool cat,” Adrien replied with a tiny smug smile. To the beleaguered designer, he said, “He seems like the kind of guy who doesn’t mind the attention.” Glancing to the class, he added, “Maybe not _all_ at once. I don’t think you even have enough room at your place. Maybe on a schedule?”

“...I suppose I can ask him,” Marinette said with a resigned sigh, as the rest of her classmates cheered. Then in a sterner, class president voice, she said, “Just don’t forget about our project! We can’t get distracted by a celebrity, you know. We still need to raise money for our trip!”

 _“Yes, Mme. Dupain-Cheng~”_ her classmates chorused, cackling with laughter as the designer sputtered with embarrassment.

~o~

Naturally, when Marinette asked, Chat Noir said yes. Thus, somehow Marinette’s room became a constant hub of activity for the entire class. In between all the sewing, the interviews, the measuring, the vlogging, and the questions, it seemed like there wasn’t a single moment that the designer had to herself between all her houseguests. (Thankfully, Chloe bowed out, saying that unlike the rest of the plebs she got to interact with Ladybug and Chat Noir on a regular basis. ...Which _was_ true, technically.)

Sure, a lot was getting done. However, it was all getting to be a little... _much._ It seemed as though she and Chat were never alone in the same room for more than a minute, before someone showed up wanting to talk to him. The fatigue was starting to get to the both of them.

The only time they knew any kind of peace was when Adrien came over as just Adrien, stocked with a new type of fabric. (He may or may not have been spacing out the shopping trips intentionally.) Left alone, they chatted about fabrics, design in general, and how brutal the fashion industry actually was. When they didn’t talk about that, they talked about anime, travel wish lists, future plans, and favorite Jagged Stone songs.

Adrien found that he liked those moments best.

Then something strange started happening.

“Oh, yeah! And she said _I_ was her favorite!” Chat Noir bragged to Ladybug one day, after they fought Glitter Bomb. (Officially, the worst akuma EVER.) He’d been telling her all about his misadventures in the class project, since there was no way he’d blindside her with that particular extracurricular activity. This time, however, he remembered that he was supposed to show off his prized status as Marinette’s favorite superhero. Which he did, preening like the smug little kitty he was.

Ladybug only laughed at him, more amused than anything. “Oh Chaton, I’m happy that your crush likes you best,” she teased wickedly.

Chat very nearly choked on his tongue. “C-crush?!” he stammered, his face exploding into a blush. Just how much had be been talking about Marinette lately? “Milady, don’t say such things!” he cried in horror, taking her hand in his and giving it a kiss. “You know that you’re the only one for me.”

“Oh, I _know~”_ the superheroine reassured him with a smile, scratching under his chin the way he liked best. “You’re a very loyal kitty.”

“Well, good. Just so you know it,” Chat huffed. Honestly, a _crush_ on Marinette. How could Ladybug even think that for a moment?

However, the odd things were happening in his civilian life, as well _._ In class, people were starting to talk behind Marinette’s back about her and her resident superhero. All of them sending sly glances in Marinette’s direction when she wasn’t looking. Even Alya and Nino huddled together as they gossiped behind their best friend’s back.

Determined to get to the bottom of it, Adrien went up to them one day as they were whispering to one another. “Hey, what are you guys talking about?” he asked brightly, if a little forceful.

Nino and Alya both jumped guiltily, before they turned sheepish smiles on the model. “Oh hey, dude,” the DJ said. “Nothing much, we were just talking about Marinette and Chat Noir.”

“...What about them?” Adrien asked, raising an eyebrow.

A conspiratorial smile spread over Alya’s lips. “Well~ Haven’t you ever noticed that when they’re in the same room together, Chat Noir seems awfully cozy with her?”

No, he didn’t. Technically, Adrien and Chat Noir had _never_ been in the same room together. People probably assumed he had been, since he was always heading over with fabric. It was not an assumption he had any wish to challenge.

“What do you mean _cozy?”_ he asked instead, his brow knitting into a frown.

“Oh, you know,” the reporter replied lightly, “Always looking at her when she isn’t looking. Always asking her opinion before anyone else’s. Always sitting closer to her than anyone else. Always trying to get her attention when she’s too focused on her work~”

Adrien’s cheeks flushed, growing pinker the longer that Alya spoke.

“If you ask me, Chat Noir’s seriously crushing on her hard,” Nino said with a sage nod.

“Wh-th- that’s _ridiculous,_ ” the model spluttered. “They’re almost never alone! They can barely even hold a conversation because you guys are over there so much! How can he possibly be crushing on her!”

“Hey, don’t diss my girl’s feminine charm,” Alya retorted sharply. “I’ll have you know that _lots_ of boys have crushed on her before. It’s not so hard to believe.”

... _What?_ Since _when?_

“So far, it doesn’t look like Mari’s reciprocating though,” the reporter mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Although it might be good for her, all things considered. It’s not exactly terrible to have a superhero for a boyfriend.”

Adrien’s whole body went cold. Marinette with Chat Noir as her boyfriend? That was completely preposterous. What kind of relationship could a normal girl possibly expect from some random stranger that just popped in and out of her room at night? Besides, they barely knew each other! Not like _him_ and Marinette, who could talk for hours about everything and nothing. Who actually had deep and meaningful conversations. Who he cared for deeply and wanted nothing more than to make her happy, always.

He was _much_ better boyfriend material than that mangey, lousy ca-

Adrien paused.

...Wait.

He wasn’t seriously getting jealous over himself, was he?

B-but then that would mean...

His thoughts screeched to a halt, before he quickly backpedaled as if his life depended on it. Or at least his so-called unconditional love for Ladybug.

“...Dude? You okay?” Nino asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been super quiet with this really weird look on your face.”

 _“I’mfineshutup.ChatNoirdoesn’thaveacrushonher,”_ he spoke in lightspeed, before he spun on his heel and fled the classroom before his friends could question him further. His heart pounded in his ears, thundering in his thoughts until he could collect himself in a private spot. Which was incidentally a stall in the boy’s bathroom.

 _What the hell is wrong with me?!_ Adrien thought, feeling his head beginning to spin. How could he possibly betray his lady like this?! His heart was supposed to belong to her forever! Which, when he thought about it, really hadn’t changed. Except now his _stupid_ heart decided that it had room for _two_ loves of his life. _Who did that?!_

 _Scum. I am complete and total scum,_ he thought, stiffly tilting over to rest his head against the graffiti scrawled stall. _I’m a lousy, disloyal good-for-nothing. I don’t deserve either of them._

“Hey, kid,” his kwami said, peeking out from his shirt as he snacked on a wedge of cheese. “I approve of the smelly ambiance and all, but I really hope you’re not thinking of flushing yourself down the toilet.”

“I should,” Adrien replied weakly, his face still pale. “Isn’t that where two-timing scum is supposed to go?”

 _“Two-”_ Plagg started, before he whipped out in an indignant puff front of the teenager’s face. “Now see here, kid. This is getting ridiculous. So what if you like two girls! It’s not like you’re even dating either one of them! Stop agonizing about something so stupid!”

That at least seemed to work. Even if it was in between insults, he recovered a little bit and slapped his hands over his cheeks to snap himself out of it. “You’re right,” the model breathed, calming down from the shock. “You’re right. This is dumb. I’m not doing anything wrong. I’ll just- I’ll just wait until this _thing_ with Marinette goes away. That’s all. My heart belongs to Ladybug. W-we’ve just been closer than usual, that’s all. As soon as the fundraiser is over, everything will go completely back to normal.”

Or so he hoped...

~o~

Chat Noir, however, had some serious doubts about this when it finally came time for his fitting.

He was already on edge, since he was going to be _naked_ in front of the fashion designer, both physically and metaphorically. The world-shattering revelation that he just might have a (teeny-tiny) crush on Marinette was not helping matters in the least.

Thankfully, Marinette had lied to everyone about his schedule, saying that he wasn’t going to be there. It guaranteed privacy just for the two of them, while he was in his most vulnerable state.

...Which was _also_ not very good for his state of mind, come to think of it.

“Hullo~” the superhero greeted at her hatch door, too nervous to spout out any clever quips at the moment.

Marinette seemed to understand, giving him a warm smile as she let him in. On her chaise were a number of Chat themed accessories that she’d put together, a leather mask and kitten ears, a long belted tail, and an almost perfect replica of the Chat Noir ring. She even had black face-paint handy for his eyelids.

“I got everything ready for you, including your first outfit. You could detransform either here or in the bathroom if you prefer,” she said kindly.

“Bathroom, please,” Chat replied. He was silent as Marinette gathered up all the accoutrements and placed them in the private room.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it,” she said cheerfully, as she closed the door. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Chat glanced back at the door. It seemed silly to lock it, but he did anyway. Then he detransformed. Looking up at Adrien’s face in the mirror, he was pale and haggard, not at all like himself. Like he was about to be sick any second.

“...Are you sure this is a good idea, kid?” Plagg whispered as he took in his chosen’s face.

“I can’t exactly back out now, can I?” Adrien muttered. Carefully, he took off his Miraculous and looped it onto a chain he brought just for this occasion. He mussed up his hair, making it as Chat-like as possible and borrowed some hairspray from the cabinet just to make sure it stayed that way. The rest of it was simple enough to put together and he looked up again to examine himself in the mirror. The strange Adrien/Chat hybrid that looked back at him was more than a little unnerving, though he couldn’t exactly put his finger on _why._

 _I am Chat Noir. I am Chat Noir,_ he thought to himself, sucking in a huge breath. Then he strode out into the bedroom with confidence. Smirking at the girl who eagerly awaited his entrance, he swept into a bow. “Mademoiselle, Chat Noir at your service.” At her giggle, his confidence surged again and he took her by the hand. Instead of kissing it as he normally would, he spun her into a dip, catching her in his arms. “Careful Prrincess. Can’t have you falling for me,” he said with a wink.

“Chat, you’re terrible!” Marinette laughed, before she looked up to his face and her eyes widened.

“Something on my face?” he asked calmly, though part of him was suddenly paranoid the leather mask had slipped.

“Uh, n-no, it’s not that,” the designer replied, her cheeks hinting at a blush. “It’s just- You have green eyes.”

“Er, yes? I’ve always had them,” Chat replied, cocking an eyebrow.

“No, I mean, yes,” Marinette stammered. “I mean- it’s just that- They’re _really_ green. Human looking.” Ah, perhaps that was what had put him off his own reflection. “I-it’s not bad,” she assured him quickly. “I just never realized that your eyes were that shade under the mask. I like them.”

She liked them. She liked Adrien’s eyes. He had absolutely no idea what to do with this information. No, _stop it._ He was Chat Noir right now.

His lips breaking into a smirk, he teased, “Oh~? So you _are_ falling for me, Prrincess?” Deftly pulling her up to her feet, he finally pressed the awaited kiss to her knuckles. “You should be careful. I’m told I’m quite the heartbreaker.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but it wasn’t nearly as convincing as before. “Yeah, yeah, kitty. You have hordes of fangirls at your disposal, I know.” She made a spinning motion with her index finger. “Get on the pedestal and turn around for me. I need to see how this fits you.” He promptly did so, spinning on one foot in a pirouette. “ _Goofball_ ,” she chided, but was grinning nonetheless. “Now hold still for me.”

Some semblance of professionalism came back to him, as he let the fashion designer poke and prod at him as needed. There was a time or two that made his heart race when her hand brushed over the ring under his shirt. However, she made no move to sneak a peek or snatch it. There were _also_ a couple times he had to close his eyes and sing a little ditty in his mind, as Marinette touched some rather awkward parts of his body. Places that a fashion designer had to touch, but that a crush had no business groping. Not that she _groped_ really. It was just each tug and brush of her hands were priming his whole body up like an electric wire.

Unfortunately, in this state, he wasn’t exactly good at compartmentalizing, because after the sixth outfit, he desperately needed a breather. “You’re doing a great job, Chat!” Marinette’s muffled voice came unhelpfully through the bathroom door. “You’re acting just like a professional! I’m very proud of you!”

 _If only she knew,_ he thought with a wry smile. He splashed some water over his face to cool his head and his thoughts.

“Hey, you want to try the skirt next?” she called.

“NO!” Adrien yelped. “Uh, I mean, n-not quite yet, Prrincess!” he stammered as Chat assumed control again. “Let’s save that for last! How about the leather pants and the cropped shirt?”

By some miracle, he made it through the entire fitting (even the skirt), without incident. Safely transformed back into the real Chat Noir, the black cat collapsed in her chaise, utterly spent. “That was way harder than it had any right to be,” he declared, eliciting a giggle from Marinette.

“Well, it is a twelve piece collection,” she smiled, already set to work to make all the little adjustments to the clothes. “You can thank Adrien Agreste for this, by the way. The whole thing was his idea.” She didn’t _sound_ resentful, however. In fact, her lips tugged into a tiny smile, her bluebell eyes soft.

Chat Noir peered at her over the back of the chaise. It would be unfair, unsporting, to ask about Adrien Agreste like this. So he didn’t. Instead, he asked, “How much longer until the actual shoot?”

“Nathaniel found a warehouse studio we can use,” Marinette replied, biting a bit of thread to make a French seam. “If I can get all the adjustments done in the next day or two, we can book it for Saturday and I’ll just do any final adjustments on-site.” She cast a smile at the black cat. “You’re surprisingly easy to work with. Almost like you’ve done this before.”

“Prrincess, are you trying to infer that I’m _easy?_ Why I _never,”_ Chat mock gasped, as part of him began to sweat. When she laughed, he beamed even as relief coursed through him. She had such a nice laugh.

“Y’know, you’re not so bad, Chat,” Marinette giggled to herself. “I might actually miss you when this whole project is done with.”

All at once, Chat’s smile fell. That’s right. He had no reason to continue hanging out with Marinette when this was all said and done with. Either as Adrien or Chat. It was what he wanted, wasn’t it? To stay away from Marinette to focus on his exclusive love for Ladybug.

But the thought of losing Marinette in the process seemed too terrible to contemplate.

At his silence, the designer looked up from her work. Tapping a foot along the ground, she wheeled over to peer at him over the back of the chaise. “You’re not dying, are you?” she joked. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Harhar,” Chat replied, sticking out his tongue playfully. He stilled when he felt a hand ruffle his hair. Marinette looked down at him, lips curled into a smile.

“You don’t have to stop coming here, if you don’t want to,” she spoke softly. “I don’t mind having a stray kitten visiting my balcony every once in awhile.”

“Be careful. I might take you up on that,” the black cat warned, even as a fuzzy bubble of happiness grew inside his chest.

“I’m counting on it,” Marinette grinned. They fell into an easy silence, her working and him watching. He only left after she began to yawn and he helped her to bed. Not before giving her a chaste kiss to her temple that she was probably too sleepy to remember.

~o~

Early Saturday morning, Marinette brought the last of the altered clothes to the warehouse studio that Nathaniel found. Everyone was supposed to meet up in the next hour, but as the main producer, designer, conceptualist of all of this, she needed the extra alone time to get everything ready.

The empty warehouse was spooky when she entered it at the break of dawn, even more so when she warmed up the lights that cast off the white screen set up for photoshoots. It was as if she were just creating more shadows the more lights she turned on. She couldn’t help but check her watch every five minutes, anxious for someone else to turn up early. Chat should, shouldn’t he? Considering that he had to detransform and get himself all dolled up before anyone else got there. She even secretly hoped that Adrien would have time to stop by before he was whisked away to the photo shoot for his father that he couldn’t get out of.

A sound cracked behind her.

She spun around and had the start of her life, when she found someone standing in the dark. “Oh! Jeez!” she let out a rush of breath. “You scared the pants off of me! So, uh, what are you doing here?” she asked, watching the tall figure take a step forward.

The shadow lunged. She didn’t have a chance to scream as a large hand came over her mouth, acrid with a sharp chemical smell. Her body slumped, going limp. With a faint grunt, the figure lifted her body up into its arms, leaving everything, her phone, her collection, her purse behind.

~o~

“Hello~! Prrincess~!” Chat Noir called into the empty warehouse. He frowned, looking in from the windows in the roof, but found no sign of the class representative. She was obviously here, seeing as all her outfits were about and so were her purse and phone. “Huh,” he muttered, dropping down the couple story flight to the warehouse floor. Hands on his hips, he looked around, trying to find any sign of her.

Suddenly, he froze as he rounded one of the racks of clothes. On the floor, black face paint was smeared over the concrete in two hastily scrawled words.

**_HELP MARI_ **

Adrien went cold. Chat whirled around, trying to find any clue for where Marinette could be taken. For she _had_ to be taken. There was no other explanation for the words and her absence. An akuma? But _why?_

“Hey Marinette~! Cavalry’s here~!” he heard a familiar voice call behind him. He spun, finding Alya, Nino, Rose and Juleka entering the warehouse doors. “Oh hey Chat!” Alya said with an excited wave, pulling out her phone to vlog the occasion. “You ready for the photo shoot?”

 _“Not. Now,”_ Chat hissed, putting a palm over the phone’s camera.

“Chat, what-?” Alya blinked. Which was when the other three found the words that the black cat had seen just seconds before. Rose let out a gasp and shriek, putting her hands over her mouth. Alya frowned, peering past Chat over to the scrawl in question. She went white, her eyes widening with horror.

“Someone, call Sabrina,” Chat snapped, barking orders to combat the intense fear and fury that threatened to overwhelm him. “Tell her to call her father. Mari’s been kidnapped. We need to get the police involved looking for her.” He took a running jump to the warehouse wall, ricocheting off to clamber up to the roof windows he’d entered earlier.

“Hey, where are you going?!” Alya shouted up at him.

“To find her, obviously!” Chat yelled back down. “There’s only one reason why someone would take Marinette. To get to me!”

“Wait!” Alya picked up the phone from the ground and hurled it up at the cat to catch. “Take Mari’s phone! We’ll do what we can and let you know anything that we find!”

Chat Noir nodded, tucking the phone into a zipper pocket before he tore off along the rooftops. Guilt compounded on his rage, all the what ifs and should haves screaming inside his mind. He should have known. He should have realized what would happen, when they plastered all over the internet what they intended to do. Hawk Moth was still out there and he wasn’t above using innocent people to do his dirty work. Why didn’t he realize that he wouldn’t be above kidnapping to get what he wanted either?

_Mari, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, this is all my fault._

Skidding to a halt, he looked down at the city from the top of Montparnasse. He clenched his fists at his sides, his gaze hardening in grim determination.

_I’m going to find you, Princess. If it’s the last thing I do._

~o~

_Ugh, gahhh... What was the number on that bus....?_

Her vision swam, everything blurry and distorted. Her head pounded like a mofo, the stink of chemicals still making her nose and her throat burn.

Distantly, a voice spoke to someone else not present. A phone, it seemed. _“Yeah. She’s secure. The cat’s going to show up at some point. We’ll be ready for him. Ladybug’s a different story though. You_ do _realize she can make shit out of nothing, don’t you?”_

Dimly, Marinette kept thinking that this was all wrong. This guy wasn’t an akuma. This guy was working for someone else. Why would normal-ass people want to kidnap her?

Suddenly, a little red blur popped in front of her face. “Oh Mari!” the little being whispered, her voice aching with relief. “I’m so glad I found you!” Marinette grunted in reply. “Shhh, shhh. Don’t talk Marinette. You can’t transform here. I’m going to go get help, okay? Just stay safe. I’ll be back!”

Just as suddenly, the red blur, Tikki, disappeared into the ground and out of sight.

Oh. Great. Fan-freaking-tastic. Now if only her head would stop spinning.

~o~

It was hour two into Marinette’s disappearance. Chat got notices on her phone from Alya. The police were involved and were scouring the warehouse for physical evidence as well as any CCTV in the area. Her parents were inconsolable, as they had every right to be. In fact, all of the class’s parents were freaking out, wondering if their children were going to be targeted next for associating with the black cat. Honestly, it made him wonder why his own phone wasn’t blowing up with orders from his father to get his ass back home.

However, a number of them were canvassing what parts of Paris they could, trying to find what clues they could of their class leader’s whereabouts. Even _Chloe,_ though she was just looking out through binoculars from the top of her hotel. It was kind of amazing how the class project had brought them all closer together in this past couple of weeks. He’d be proud, if he wasn’t terrified out of his wits.

That was when he noticed something odd out of the corner of his eye. A mobius red blob. He frowned and squinted at it. Wait a minute. Weren’t those...?

“Ladybugs!” he cried, dashing off towards the little swarm of bright red bugs. However, try as he might, he didn’t ever actually catch up with them. They kept flying away. _Leading_ him somewhere. Chat’s lips broke into a wide smile. Sure, it wasn’t Ladybug herself, but hell yeah he was going to take this!

Following the little trail of bugs as fast as he could, he tore across the rooftops of Paris as fast as his feet would allow. In fact, he went so fast that when they came to an abrupt stop, he plowed right through the little swarm. Let him just say, that getting ladybugs up the nose was really not the most comfortable experience in the entire world.

However, after he coughed and hacked his way to recovery, he found that he was standing on top of a church. Pah, how _cliche._ Debating for a long moment, he pulled out Mari’s phone and texted his location to Alya. He was loathe to get his classmates more involved in this, considering what happened. However, Ladybug wasn’t here and if he fell then the police needed to rescue Mari, no matter what.

With that done, he silently slipped up the bell tower and down its shaft. Poking his head into the chapel, he determined that it was empty before he silently dropped down onto the stone floor. Crawling on all fours, he slinked through the halls, ears flicking as he tried to listen for any sign of the kidnappers.

Footsteps sounded, coming closer to him. Sliding out of sight, he peeked around a corner and saw two large, muscled men coming towards him. He frowned. These weren’t akuma. If anything, they looked like hired mobsters. What on earth-

Chat sucked in a sharp breath. No akuma. No akuma meant no Miraculous magic to fix akuma damage. No akuma meant that whatever happened here was going to be permanent. Holy shit. If Marinette got hurt here, it would be for forever. This was Hawk Moth’s step up in his dangerous game. He wasn’t even using his Miraculous this time. He was just straight up hiring hit men.

Fists clenching at his sides, he felt his heart thunder at the rising stakes. Then he took the silver baton from behind his back, extending it into a quarterstaff. Well, there was one good thing about no akuma this time.

Whatever he did now was going to hurt. _Permanently._

After fighting his way through no less than twelve armed mobsters, Chat made his way past the main chapel and into the private offices. Peering around the desk and bookcases, he focused on any clue as to the class rep’s whereabouts.

That was when he heard it. Heard _her._ Labored, soft breathing. Rounding around the desk, he found Marinette curled underneath the heavy wood, her hands cuffed and her skin pale. “Mari!” he cried, his heart bursting with relief. He broke her shackles and gathered her up into his arms. “Oh thank God, I found you. I _found_ you,” he breathed, pressing his brow against hers.

“Hey, kitty...” she said weakly, her eyes still drooping from the aftereffects of some sort of drug.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he hushed. “The police are coming. I’m getting you out of here.”

“Nngh, not... akuma...” she murmured, trying to shake her thoughts clean.

“Yeah, I know. I got that part,” Chat replied, gathering her up and holding her against his chest. “Hawk Moth just upped his game in a real sick way. You don’t worry about that though. Just hold on for me, okay?” Much more carefully than he came in, he exited the office and back out into the main chapel.

That was when he heard the click.

In fact, he heard many, _many_ clicks.

Chat froze as if he had stepped on a landmine. Looking around as best as he could without turning his head, he counted no less than four barrels pointed in their direction. There were probably more behind him.

Great. A trap. Why was there always a trap?

“Really?” he called out to the gunmen trained on them. “You’d shoot a superhero? Haven’t you heard that we’re bulletproof?”

“We’re not trained on you, Chat Noir,” a gruff voice called from behind him. Chat could only assume that he was the ringleader of this little outfit. “We’ve got all our eyes on that little girlie you’ve got in your arms.” The black cat felt a wash of cold go through him. His arms instinctively clutched Marinette tighter to him.

“She’s got _nothing_ to do with me,” Chat snapped at them, baring his teeth as though he had fangs. “Just let me take her back to her parents! You don’t want anything to do with killing a little girl, do you?!”

As if on cue, sirens sounded in the distance, coming closer. It seemed like Alya had called it in after all.

“You hear that!” Chat taunted. “You’re already completely screwed anyway! None of you are getting out of this. So why don’t you put down those guns and cut your losses while you still can?”

“No can do, cat boy,” the ringleader replied. “I’m pretty sure you know what the deal is. Your Miraculous or her life. Take it or leave it.”

Gritting his teeth, Chat peered around at the guns trained on them. There _had_ to be a way out of this. Guh, if only Ladybug were here, she’d think of something!

That was when he noticed the faint scratch against his stomach. He looked down and Marinette wriggled in his arms. She pulled something from her pocket and pressed it into his palm, squeezing it between her body and his fingers. Then she smiled and gave him a wink.

Blinking, Chat looked at his palm, before his lips broke into a smile.

“Okay!” he called out, looking behind him towards the ringleader. A man of medium build, with sharp ugly eyes. “Okay. I have to put Marinette down, okay? I can’t take my ring off without both my hands.”

The hit man peered at him suspiciously, but then nodded. Letting out a shaky breath, Chat set her down between the pews, as far out of sight as the other gunman as possible. He made a tugging motion on his finger and held out the Black Cat Miraculous out in his palm. “You gonna come get it?” he asked, holding out the ring.

His eyes narrowing, the ringleader motioned for the guns to lower, before he stepped down towards Chat Noir. “You better not be trying anything,” he warned, reaching out for the black ring.

As soon as his fingers came near, Chat snatched his fist upwards and threw the ring as hard as he could down the main chapel. “Here! Catch!” he cried, diverting all their attention to the ring that sailed towards the back of the chapel. With their attention away, he spun a kick to knock the ringleader off his feet, before he snatched Marinette back up again and bolted. However, he couldn’t make it towards the door in the hail of gunfire, opting instead to drop into the safety of the second-story stone corridor that overlooked the chapel. He covered Marinette’s body, as another spray of bullets cracked and shattered the stonework around them.

“They’re not kitten around, are they!” he hissed, turning his attention to the gunmen below. He put a hand to Marinette’s face, giving her a smile. “You just stay here, alright? I’ll take care of these guys. Good job with the fake ring.”

“Chat, _don’t-”_ she hissed, grasping at his arm. “You’re bringing a baton to a gunfight. The police are outside. Just let them handle this.”

The black cat smiled faintly at her, cupping her face in his hands. “You know I can’t,” he spoke softly. “They _hurt_ you. I need to make sure that Hawk Moth doesn’t get the bright idea that he can do this again.” He paused, as if wrestling with a decision. Then he suddenly leaned forward and kissed her full on the lips, wiping out all thought. When he pulled away, he smiled wide, his green eyes glittering. “For good luck,” he winked, before he dashed away to rain punishment on the hired mobsters.

 _That stupid cat!_ Marinette thought, suddenly all too lucid, her cheeks enflamed in a bright blush. She covered her head as heard the bullets flying. Then she crawled on her hands and knees out of the hiding spot in question trying to find a way out of here. That was when a little red kwami popped up in front of her nose. “Tikki!” she cried happily.

“Marinette!” Tikki cheered, cuddling her chosen’s cheek. “Are you alright, Marinette?”

“Yeah, still kinda fuzzy. Can you take care of that?”

“Of course,” Tikki chirped.

“Okay, great, because Chat needs some help,” Marinette replied as she managed to slip away into a hallway off the corridor. In as quiet a voice as she could muster, she hissed, “Tikki, transforme moi!”

~o~

It took some extra special luck to help kick some ass, turn back into Marinette, and somehow end up in the same spot as Chat Noir left her. Thankfully, she had luck out of the wazoo. When all was said and done, she returned to her position as the civilian in distress, seconds before Chat came looking for her.

“Oh _there_ you are,” he said in a rush of relief. “I got you, Prrincess. I’m going to get you to your parents now.”

“Thanks, Chat,” Marinette smiled, genuinely grateful. No matter what, she’d never be able to do this without her kitty, whether or not he even knew it. And that kiss was- _Well_... She flushed, not quite sure what to make of the whole thing. However, Chat brought her back to her parents, putting an end to all romantic speculation in the meantime. For now, she just reveled in being safe and alive, wrapped up in her sobbing parents’ arms.

“MARI!” she heard a voice screech her name. Turning around, she saw Alya and her classmates gathered at the edge of the police perimeter. More than one of them with tears in their eyes.

Smiling broadly, she ran over to them and was gathered up in their arms. They laughed and cried in relief, babbling about how worried they were and what they did to try to save her. Chat stood off to the side, lingering silently with his hands clasped behind his back.

Nino looked up to him, before he waved the cat over. “Chat! Get your ass over here for the group hug!”

However, Chat Noir only gave them an awkward smile, waving the idea off. “Ah... I don’t think I should,” he said with a shrug. “It’s my fault Mari was kidnapped. You’re all better off without me.”

“You stupid cat!”

To everyone’s shock, it wasn’t Marinette who spoke, but _Chloe._ “You’re the one who saved her ungrateful ass!” she snapped sharply, shoving a finger _hard_ against the black cat’s chest. “You’re a hero, whether you like it or not! And _don’t_ think this gets you out of the class calendar, because there’s no way we can come up with a new idea in time! I want to go to Nice, dammit! You can make it up to us by making sure that we get that fundraising money!”

“Wow,” Alya said in awe, as the class blinked in stunned stupefaction. “I never thought I’d say this, but _go Chloe.”_

Chat stared, blinking in startlement as he tried to wrap his mind around this. “A-Are you serious? You still want to do this with me?”

“Of course we do, dude!” Nino cried. “We can’t do this without you! Like, literally!’

“We put _waaaay_ too much work into this,” Alix added, the petite girl folding her arms over her chest.

“And you’re like our class mascot now!” Rose interjected happily.

“Ah-haha,” Chat laughed nervously, not really sure what he thought of _that_ idea. “You all realize that I’m not _actually_ a cat, right?”

“Oh, _really?_ We had no idea,” Marinette teased, taking Chat Noir by the arm and giving him a fond squeeze. All it took was one look down at her bright and shining face, eyes twinkling in mischief, for his heart to fall all over again. This beautiful _amazing_ girl, that he very nearly lost forever. She was safe and sound. He would make sure of that, always.

Smiling wide, he suddenly tugged her close and pressed a kiss to her lips again. Now for all the world to see. Their classmates, her parents, the police, _and_ the media. Marinette barely had time to let out a squeak, before the class hooted and hollered in excitement.

“I told you he was crushing on her!” Alya laughed, jamming the DJ in the ribs with her elbow.

“We _all_ knew he was crushing on her,” Nino reminded his girlfriend with an exasperated roll of his eyes. “It was totally obvious!”

This was apparently news to Marinette, who was a blushing and stuttering mess as she and Chat broke apart. “Ch-ch-Chat?! What are you-?!”

“Kissing you, obviously,” the black cat grinned wickedly, tilting her chin upwards with a knuckle. “And I plan on doing it many more times in the future.” That was when his ring, his _real_ one, beeped, indicating that his time was nigh. “Well, that’s my cue,” he declared, stepping back from the group as he gave them a small salute. “We’ll just _scratch_ this attempt, shall we? I’ll see you all tomorrow bright and early!”

With that, he bounced, tearing off to the rooftops and out of sight. Which was when all eyes turned on Marinette, who was still as red as a cherry. “W-well!” Sabine said, quickly coming to her daughter’s rescue. She wrapped her arms around the young designer, pulling her towards the ambulance. “I think that’s quite enough excitement for one day. Marinette, why don’t we get you checked out by the doctors and get you home. You need the rest.”

“Don’t forget we need you tomorrow!” Alya called as her bestie was taken away.

Marinette glanced over her shoulder to her class. She gave them a thumbs up, grinning broadly, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

~o~

The calendar came out as a resounding success. Propelled by news of the harrowing kidnapping that was associated with the project, their sales went through the roof, quintupling overnight. The pre-sales alone were enough to take _all_ the classes in school on an overnight trip, not just theirs. In fact, they probably could have afforded to go to Spain if they were so inclined.

They settled on Nice and donated the rest of the money to fixing the church that was completely shot up during Marinette’s kidnapping.

Even better, Marinette now had calls from all kinds of major design powerhouses that wanted to snatch her up as soon as she was out of school. Apparently, her designs were _that_ impressive. It helped that Chat Noir really was unnaturally talented at modeling, much to everyone’s surprise, showing off the Urban Flower collection to its full effect.

With some weeks to go to the class trip, Marinette was just happy to have some down time. She thought she deserved it, after all the media and the fuss that everyone was making over her and her supposed superhero beau. (Not that she _once_ agreed to such a thing, but there was no helping with the media.) All she wanted to do was sleep and sleep for days on end.

She was nearly napping, when her mother called up to her room. “Marinette! You have a visitor!’

The designer groaned, pulling a pillow over her head.

“It’s Adrien!”

Marinette nearly tripped over her own face in her haste to get out of bed. “I’m coming!” she cried, bounding down the stairs as fast as she could. Her eyes and her heart lit up with delight when she came down and found the model standing with his hands in his pockets in her living room. “Adrien!” she cried happily, her cheeks flushing. “Wh-what are you doing here? Did you leave something here?”

Adrien smiled, his handsome face warm and fond as he wrapped her up into a hug. “I was just checking in on you. You’ve had a couple of exciting weeks, it seems like.”

Marinette let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah! You can say that again.” She waved for Adrien to follow her upstairs and away from her parents’ sly expression and nosy intentions. She settled the model down on her chaise and sat next to him just a few inches apart. “Is there anything that I can get you? Gosh, it feels like forever since you’ve been up here.”

“I know right?” Adrien replied, looking over the room now that it was bare of half-finished outfits. It seemed so empty now. “It’s only been two weeks. You’ve been really popular too. I heard that my dad offered you an internship.”

“Yeah, I’m honored,” Marinette replied, smiling shyly. “I’m not even close to graduating and I’ve already scored an internship with one of the biggest names in Paris. Not just that, but with names all over Europe! It’s like a dream come true.”

“Well, I might be _slightly_ biased,” the model admitted, his grin turning sly, “but I sure know where I’d like you to end up.”

Giggling, Marinette said, “Oh? And what am I supposed to do when you run off to Austria to study physics? Just sit and wait for you to visit?”

“No. I’d stay.”

The words were simple, but Marinette blinked at their implication.

“For you,” Adrien added, as if it wasn’t clear enough. His voice softened as he gazed at her in sweet affection. “I’d want to stay with you wherever you are. Even if you move to Antarctica.”

Marinette’s face blossomed into a bright blush, her heart thundering in her throat. “You- are you-?” she stammered, not quite believing what she was hearing. She _eeped_ when he took her hands, stunned into silence as he cupped her cheek.

“May I kiss you?” he whispered, his green eyes regarding her as if she were an angel or something just as divine. It completely took her breath away. Marinette stared, before she remembered herself and nodded far too quickly. Smiling, he leaned forward, but then stopped when the designer put a hand to his chest.

“W-wait,” she stuttered, her cheeks stained tomato red. “D-Didn’t you hear about Chat Noir? Everyone seems to think he’s made some sort of claim over me. I get teased about it constantly and now the media thinks that we’re Paris’ hottest new couple. Are you sure you want to get in the middle of all that?”

“Ah,” Adrien replied, strangely nonplussed by this. “Right. He kissed you and said he’d do it many more times in the future? Something like that?”

“Yeah...” Marinette laughed weakly.  She still couldn’t get over the irony of it.  That his flirtations with Ladybug would cool, only to have all Chat’s attention focus on Marinette instead.

That was when Adrien’s smile turned mischievous, almost wicked. “Don’t worry, Mari,” he said in promise, “I plan on kissing you just as many times.” With that, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, sealing the deal.


End file.
